


The Sins of Virginia Gray

by freetheelves2



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: F/M, Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-30
Updated: 2007-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-24 06:07:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8360227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freetheelves2/pseuds/freetheelves2
Summary: She wanted to be the most important woman in his life. Always.





	

It wasn't always like this.   
  
In retrospect, Gabriel is almost certain that if she had the chance to do it over, she would have done differently. Better. At least, that's what he's telling himself.   
  
After all, he's only just a boy.   
  
That is probably what Gabriel understood the least. _You're too young to understand adult things like alcohol and sex and drugs and anything. You're just a boy._  
  
And yet…   
  
Her actions had always spoken so much louder than her words. When he was four, the mere nodding and smiling and the _oh sweetie, that's terrible! Of course I'm listening,_ would more than do. He believed her. Now he was no longer so naïve as to think she would listen when he told her he didn't want a ham sandwich and she smiled and nodded and took ham out of the fridge.   
  
Futile.   
  
It wasn't a particular sort of night in Queens at all; in fact, it was rather ordinary, if it wasn't for the fact that everything was entirely different about the night.   
  
It wasn't the way they were arguing – "mom, I'm twenty-five; you'll have to let me move out at one point," – because arguments like these – especially this one – were all too common. Her arguments were weak and always the same, trying to ascertain his sympathy and his pity because dad was gone, and yet it always felt impossible to fight her.   
  
"What if I ever want a girlfriend?" he started very quietly, his voice small, his eyes transfixed on a small spot where the linoleum kitchen floor had cracked, "at one point it'll be embarrassing to tell her that I'm still living with my mother."  
  
She didn't say anything for a long while then, but he knew the minute the words had come out of his mouth, that everything had changed.   
  
Everything was different.   
  
And that's when Gabriel realized why that very ordinary night wasn't very ordinary at all.   
  
It was the way she was looking at him.   
  
She looked away the moment she saw him staring, almost shocked but not quite, the moment in time freezing even his emotions if just momentarily, and then she turned abruptly and shook her head.   
  
"I don't see why you could possibly need one. You have me, don’t you?"  
  
"I… well… of course, but…"  
  
She didn't let him finish. "Well then. You don't need any other girls… women in your life."   
  
He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off, the afterthought practically tumbling from her mouth. "I've been awfully lonely ever since… I wouldn't know what to do if you left and I wasn't the most important woman in your life anymore."  
  
Gabriel cleared his throat, suddenly feeling intensely more uncomfortable.   
  
"You know what?" he started, "it doesn't matter. Forget I ever said anything. I understand dad leaving you was hard—"  
  
"You remind me so much of him," she said with a strange smile on her face, entirely too disconcerting and yet not at all at the same time, rounding the kitchen counter and taking his face in her hands. "But of course you know that; I must have told you a million times by now."  
  
" _Mom_ ," he repeated almost urgently, something to the edge of his voice that did not quite sound like himself.  
  
"Mom," he repeated, more normal this time, "I should probably head to bed."  
  
There was a beat where she was just staring at him, holding onto his face, the expression in her eyes clearly telling him that she had not listened – not really – and then she blinked and shook her head and the moment was over and she nodded. "Yes. Yes of course."  
  
She had yet to let go of his face.   
  
It wasn't entirely unusual at all – she did it every night whenever he excused himself off to bed – but this time, leaning in, a chaste kiss on the lips from a mother to a son wasn't chaste and it didn't feel like a kiss from a mother to a son, either.   
  
It lingered, two, three, four, five, six seemingly endless seconds, and then she pulled back and touched a hand to her lips, Gabriel frozen where he stood.   
  
"Maybe you don't want to go to bed," she asked very quietly and Gabriel swallowed and licked his lips and subconsciously cursing himself.   
  
"I…" he started, but all words died on his lips when his mother leaned up close to his face again and kissed him.  
  
It was almost different this time – almost because this time she seemed more determined, more needing, and yet there was just that hint of – what was it? _Lust_? – in the way she kissed him that shouldn't have been there and that, yet, he couldn't seem to shake.   
  
Futile.  
  
One hand threaded into his hair, messing it up beyond anything she would have considered barely decent on any other day, any other moment, one hand still on his cheek, holding him close—  
  
Not necessary. He couldn't move.   
  
When his back hit the wall with her guidance, he pulled back, feeling crazed and heady and shaking his head.   
  
"What… what is this? You always tell me… tell me things like kissing, and…" his voice got small, " _sex_ are terrible."  
  
Her eyes were glassy and then he realized that they were distinctly wet. "I can't let any other girls… I have to be the most important woman in your life."  
  
The moment stopped where mother and son stared at each other, Jocasta and Oedipus, transfixed entirely, and things made sense to Gabriel for the seemingly first time in his life, and when his mother gave a silent sob—  
  
" _Please_ , Gabriel."  
  
Something inside of him snapped, and she was back and clinging to him and this was so very, very wrong but it was right to her – why? – and he was touching her, barely, tears blurring his own vision now, and when she fumbled with his pants button and zipper, he didn't—couldn't—watch.   
  
Her guidance.   
  
She was so religious and she was surely going to hell for this. He didn't know about himself – how could one go to a place one did not believe in? – not even when her hands wrapped around him and he bucked forward despite himself, noticing that her own skirt had pooled at her ankles as well as her panties.   
  
He didn't look.   
  
Her guidance, moving him around, herself against the wall and then she cried out, and it – more than anything else – alerted him that he was inside, a silent scream dying on his lips.   
  
Her legs wrapped around his waist and she was crying and not a virgin and he was thrusting and not looking and not a virgin _anymore_ – tainted – and he wondered if he'd ever be able to do this with any other girl ever again.   
  
When she came it took him all his will to restrain himself from coming, too.   
  
One, two, three more shallow thrusts more despite himself, and he couldn't stop himself – broken – biting his lip hard enough to draw blood to keep himself from crying out loud.   
  
The moments that followed – silence – the world stood still for him, the only sound still going, the ever-steady ticking from the Sylar watch drumming softly back and forth like a heartbeat. Rhythmic. Calming.  
  
Except that Gabriel Gray was not calm, his pulse racing – _he'd never be calm again_ – his thoughts trying to catch up with the sanity of the events.   
  
Futile.  
  
Finally something happened – his mother's legs giving way as she slowly slid down to t he floor, crying, her body crumbling and collapsing in a heap.  
  
Gabriel closed his eyes, stepped back, pulled the zipper shut and closed the button, counted to ten, and then went to get a suitcase.   
  
It was the only thing he could do.   
  
And somehow he had known from the moment she had started to cry that she knew he wouldn't come back.


End file.
